


Maybe

by nocturnite



Series: Scenes We All Wanted To Happen But Didn't [2]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: His Last Vow, M/M, THE 2 SECOND MYSTRADE SCENE, reference to overdose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnite/pseuds/nocturnite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only two seconds in the show but we all know more was going on behind the scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> May delete this later and add more or change it completely, who knows? Still getting the hand of this fanfic writing...thing.

Greg doesn’t handle silence well so when he reports in to Mycroft about Sherlock’s whereabouts he hopes the black car takes him anywhere else to meet the man but his luck is unfounded. The Diogenes Club looms above him and he silently makes his way downstairs to Mycroft’s office, ignoring the other men in the club just as well as they ignore him.

“Ah, Greg,” Mycroft calls out without looking away from his laptop. Greg doesn’t try to catch a view of the screen. There’s no telling what confidential information is there and Greg has no love of Mycroft’s “sessions” on keeping confidentiality. He still has nightmares from the last time.

“We’re still looking, all of us,” Greg says. Mycroft just nods.

“Have you searched in all the usual places?”

“Parliament Hill, Camden Lock and Dagmar Court, those are the only ones I know.”

“ _Five_ known bolt holes,” Mycroft adds. “There’s the blind greenhouse in Kew Gardens and the leaning tomb in Hampstead Cemetery.”

“Right,” Greg nods and starts to head out when Mycroft shoos him away.

_Right_ , he thinks. _I may be a lowly DI but it’s not like this man is actually king of the world_. He hesitates going out the door.

“Mycroft…” The continuous typing stops for a moment, before continuing. Greg has yet to turn around.

Sometimes the man’s uncaring face is too much for the DI to handle without going into a bit of a strop.

“About last night,” Greg starts but is interrupted.

“I thought we agreed last night would never happen again and in return you would never speak of it. Shall we renegotiate?”

Greg huffed in irritation. This man, he’s insufferable. And yet, Greg never did seem able to put him away in the box Mycroft was determined to stay in.

Greg turns around and heads back to the desk. Mycroft stops typing this time and heaves a great sigh, sure to show how put-upon he finds Greg’s confrontation.

“Greg, my brother is missing, wounded, and most likely bleeding internally,” Mycroft starts. “I have countries to monitor, an apparent shooter to find, and _Great Britain_ to run in the meantime.”

“No, I know,” Greg says, raising his hands. “But a little…notice wouldn’t go amiss. You could at least…at least _look_ at me!”

Mycroft gives him a _look_ and Greg _hates_ those looks.

“My dear,” Mycroft says and then stops himself. Greg perks up a bit at the endearment, so little spoken.

“You know my work takes from that which I cannot afford to freely or often give. We discussed this. The only time I’ve ever even been to your work was before we became truly acquainted because my brother overdosed. I’m not a…personable man.”

Mycroft looked uncomfortable even saying all this, and Greg knows he isn’t used to talking about…anything outside of work but he encourages it all the same.

“When this is all over,” Greg ignores another look, “ _when the crisis with your brother and his shooter is over_ , maybe we can…”

Mycroft stares and then stands and walks around the desk, eyes never leaving Greg’s. His hands go to adjust Greg’s jacket, then smooth down the planes of his chest. Greg almost stops breathing; he knows Mycroft doesn’t indulge in intimacy, especially not during work hours.

“Maybe we can.”


End file.
